A Chance
by MinaOfRen
Summary: After Shanks pesters him about how great is the little family he made in the East Blue, Mihawk comes across the chance to form something similar for himself.


Mihawk is a man that does not need a crew. He is a force to be reckoned with on his own and he has no necessity (or desire) to rely on others. He is fond of the silence that brings such solitude, but as he is only a man, eventually, it becomes overwhelming. It is then (and _only _then) that he decides to pay a visit to Shanks, to enjoy a good fight and drink until his own name is but a distant memory.

Such encounters are also a good reminder of why he's better off on his own. A day with Shanks is a day too many.

Nowadays, he no longer indulges in this visits with the excuse of a duel, as the only man he considered close to be his equal has now lost an arm. Powerful people have a way of finding each other, so one day, when he is wandering around in a nameless isle in the East Blue with Yoru on his back, he just happens to cross paths with Shanks and his lousy crew.

Benn Beckman eyes him warily, but Mihawk suspects such is simply the man's manner. His polite nod is quickly ignored by Shanks, who is fast to throw an arm (his only arm) around his shoulder and greet him as if they were long lost brothers.

Mihawk does not stare at the section of the shirt, which is neatly tucked, that prevents the stump from showing. He knows of the missing arm because he has heard the tales, he does not need to see it. The man's presence hasn't changed at all, though. His haki is strident, numbing to the weaker.

When he asks for the story, Shanks is all too happy to oblige.

He spoke of the boy with a fondness that was unlike him. He sighed as he mentioned a barmaid, who was the loveliest woman he had ever gazed upon apparently. In that moment, Shanks's grip over his mug tightened. "I'm going to marry her one day," he declared.

"And you think she'll take you?" Mihawk curses himself for asking as Shanks looks at him surprised, as if thought that Mihawk was letting him ramble without actually hearing him. If his crew's expressions were anything to go by, this wasn't the first time they had heard the tale or the declaration.

"I hope she will, see, I just lost an arm: my charm and brilliance remain untouched." A smile pulled to the side of his lips. "Ah, family and children… They have a way to change a man." He threw the other man a look. "You wouldn't understand."

Mihawk allowed his eyebrows to furrow only slightly. "And how would _you_? You have neither."

Both depression and determination invaded his features. "I was with them for a year! Makino-san always cooked me nice meals and served me booze and called me 'Captain!'" He imitated with pouty lips and with dreamy eyes, Mihawk did his best to stay impassive. "Besides, I saved Luffy from that bastard mountain bandit!"

"I believe he was in that conflict because of you in the first place." Mihawk pointed out.

"Family defend each other! I'm his father figure, as he has no dad, and Makino-san plays the mother's part because she is kind and good." He smiled brilliantly at Mihawk, clearly proud of his conclusion. "That makes all three of us a family. Benn can even be the grumpy uncle."

"I'm not grumpy," could be heard immediately from across the room.

Just as Mihawk was starting to question whether the arm had taken some of the redhead's mind with it or if Shanks had been like that since the beginning, the man suddenly asked him: "What about you, are you planning on filling the hawk's nest with baby hawks any time soon?" He raised his eyebrows playfully.

Mihawk huffed on his mug. "Of course not," family was a weakness, and in the case of wanted men, a dangerous thing more often than not.

"Aww, don't be like that. Wouldn't you like to have a little kid to frown at everyone with you? See, just like that!" He pointed at the space between Mihawk's eyes. "Besides, _someone_ has to inherit that ugly sword of yours," he said as his eyes moved to Yoru.

"My sword isn't ugly," he couldn't help but reply. Shanks ignored him.

"Think about it: little Hawk Eyes Junior. How does that sound?"

"Dreadful."

Yet against his will, the idea stuck in his head. As he left the bar with a migraine forming behind his eyes, Mihawk thought about the senseless blabber that had followed Shanks's talk about baby names. It wasn't exactly senseless, he realized. He couldn't help but think of his legacy, of the one who would come to hold the title of "the Best Swordsman in the world" and perhaps, Yoru herself.

He caressed the handle of the devilish thing, deep in his own thought.

There seemed to be a little forest nearby and Mihawk decided that he'd spend the night there, as Shanks and his crew wouldn't venture far of the waters and he was in need of silence. In the dark that the thickness of the bushes offered, Mihawk felt at peace. He was rather fond of places that people like Shanks would call '_gloomy_'.

He took seat beneath the shadow of a roble and closed his eyes, silently vowing to kill the one who's dare to awake him. He must have gotten some two good hours of sleep before he felt someone near, a little someone. He opened a single eye, to be met with the blank stare of a kid who was standing way to close.

"Did you get lost?" Mihawk could have glared at him to scare him away, but the kid didn't seem to have any survival instinct, as he wasn't fazed at all by Mihawk's eyes or sword.

Something about the phrasing bothered the kid, if the way he shot daggers at Mihawk was anything to go by. "I'm not lost!" Then, he looked around, before his eyes settled on Mihawk once more. "Maybe I am."

Well, that wasn't Mihawk's problem. His eyes briefly brushed over the boy, who wore simple clothes and had, apparently, green hair. The thing that captured his attention, however, was the sword he carried on his back.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" It seemed heavier than the boy himself, with a white sheath that shone under the moonlight. It occurred him that he might have stolen it, the sword was clean while the boy's clothes were torn and he wore mud like a second skin.

His arms wrapped around the sword protectively. "Don't even look at it, old man!" The words dug under his skin. He wasn't even thirty years old! "It's mine."

"And how exactly did you acquire it?" The boy's expression saddened.

"It belonged to a friend. She was- We promised that one of us would become the best swordsman in the world. But she passed away and I ran with her sword… And now I can't find my way back to the dojo." And just like that, he started to cry.

It wasn't a sobbing mess, silent tears streamed down the boy's cheeks and little hiccups escaped him.

_Damn it. _The sun was about to rise.

"Surely your family is looking for you," Mihawk said tentatively. He wasn't going to offer his help immediately.

He looked down. "I don't have a family."

_Damn it._

"What's your name?" Mihawk inquired.

"Roronoa Zoro, and I'm going to become the greatest swordsman that ever lived!" He answered firmly. Then, his eyes moved behind Mihawk, as if he had just only noticed Yoru. "You are a swordsman too?"

"Indeed. I'm Dracule Mihawk." He extended a hand to the boy, no, Zoro and the other shook it firmly. "I… I can point you to the village." Zoro nodded eagerly and Mihawk proceeded to show him the path he had come from.

"Thank you," Zoro bowed and promptly walked the wrong way. Mihawk felt a drop of sweat going down his spine.

"The _other _way, boy." He turned, blushing and walked deeper in the woods.

Quickly losing his patience, Mihawk rose from his spot under the roble and grabbed the boy's shoulder, then, he took Yoru and with a swift cut, every tree that stood on the way to the village fell to the ground.

When he looked down, he was met with the amazed eyes of the child. Something warm twisted on his belly. It didn't feel half bad to be stared like that, most people did so in fear or respect. But the simple adoration of a child…

_Damn it._

"Can you teach me how to do that?" He asked eagerly, eyes wide and tears gone. "I'm a quick learner." He promised.

"I'm afraid it'll take some time, even if you are as talented as it would seem." He offered praise, even as he was yet to see the boy with his sword. "Time I do not have, I'm only passing by."

The boy only looked disappointed for a second. "Then take me with you! Take me as your apprentice." His eyes shone hopefully and Mihawk found himself considering it… What harm could it cause? Other than being responsible for the life of a child.

"Do you know of the Grand Line, the Pirate Graveyard?" He asked. "I hail from there. Things are not easy and it's no place for little children."

"I'm not a child! I'm a swordsman." And to prove his point, he drew his sword from the sheath and promptly took down four trees with a slash. He turned to Mihawk with a smile, seeking his approval.

He wasn't half-bad, Mihawk had met older fools with a quarter of his skill managing to survive in Paradise. He wouldn't do badly there, in fact, if they began training now that he was young, he would certainly grow to become a force to be reckoned with-

Mihawk froze on the spot. He was actually thinking about it.

Zoro looked up to him. "See? I can fight too!" He told him. "I was the best at the dojo, right after Ku-" the sadness overtook his young features once more. "After my friend, I never got to beat her."

Well, there was also that aspect. If he took the kid, it wouldn't just be his responsibility to keep him alive and feed. Kids felt… things, with emotions and such. Perhaps Shanks would be better at this aspect.

Damn the bastard, if it weren't for him, Mihawk wouldn't be questioning all of this in the first place.

"She is the one the sword belonged to." He guessed and Zoro nodded. "She must have been quite skilled."

"She was."

Mihawk bit his lip. "If you come with me, I cannot promise you that you'll always have a roof under your head or food on the table." Or a table at all.

Zoro, with the impatience of a child, brushed it off. "I know how to fish." _Brilliant. _

Mihawk allowed himself to smile. "Then follow me, I'll lead the way to my ship."

* * *

Shanks woke up with his head stuck to the counter, he almost called for Makino, before remembering that he was no longer in Foosha. Keeping down the urge to moan in distress, he rose from his spot. The members of the crew were in similar states.

Doc was going to kill them once they got back to the ship.

The sunlight entered through the windows, briefly blinding him. Something caught his eye and Shanks moved closer to see it better.

There he was, in his gloomy glory, Dracule Mihawk, being followed by a little boy. Shanks felt the need of running after them, to save the boy from being cut in half by his moody friend. Before he could move, Mihawk jumped to the little thing he called a ship (a glorified boat with creepy candles) and extended a hand to the green-haired little guy.

Shanks eyes widened comically as the boy jumped in with the other man. How much had he drank las night? How much did _Mihawk_ drink las night?

He had vague memories, but he recalled pestering the man about forming a family and getting kids and stuff. Roger's gold, he hadn't meant for Mihawk to kidnap a boy!


End file.
